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Jessica Day and Nick Miller were broken up. That was the way it should be. Jessica Day did not want to get back together with Nick Miller. Jessica Day was definitely not writing Mrs. Nick Miller, Mrs. Jessica Day-Miller, Mrs. Jessica Miller, and Ms. Jessica Day-Miller all over her notebook.
These names were definitely not surrounded by hearts.
Cece told her she should get over him. Cece was right, of course. And really, Jess was over him. She totally had other people who were interested in her. Hot guys. Hot guys with way more potential to go far in life than Nick Miller, Mr. angry sad turtle man.
Which was why she really needed to stop writing this in her notebook. And even more, they really needed to stop making out during True American.
They never talked about it. She didn't even know if Nick remembered it. She pretended she didn't because the alternative was far too mortifying. But the truth was every time they played True American, whether they were on the same team or not, somehow they always ended up clinging to each other on top of a chair, surreptitiously grabbing each other's butts, and, when other people weren't looking, kissing. A lot. In fact, Jess wondered if they hadn't kissed more since they'd broken up than they did during the entire time they were together.
But it hardly counted if they were drunk at the time, right?
It totally did not count. At all.
Jess ripped the page from her notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trashcan. Something had to change.
***
The loft was a mess. Schmidt was usually the one who bugged everybody about doing housework, but no one listened. Especially not Nick. However, today even Nick noticed how dirty it was. Dishes crept out of the sink and over the counters, spreading onto every surface in the kitchen. There was even a pile of pots on the floor.
Something had to be done.
"Hey guys," Nick said to Coach and Winston who were playing an Xbox game in the living room. "I think we should do something about this apartment. I know that sounds weird, especially for me, but it's kind of funky. And not in a good way. "
"I feel you, man," Winston said, scratching his cat Furguson's head in between furiously mashing controller buttons. "We should definitely do something. But I have to go to work now. I gotta do… Important police things." Winston raised his eyebrows suggestively as he said that last thing. Then he dropped the controller and practically ran out of the room.
"Don't look at me," said Coach. "I have to go... coach things." Nick sighed, but he couldn't say he was surprised. Coach was always going off to coach kids playing volleyball and basketball, and he somehow never ever did any housework.
One after the other the two men left the building and Nick was left alone in the loft's living room. Jessica was busy at her school being a vice principal, which was super important and way better than the bartending job Nick had. Not that he cared. He'd passed the bar. He'd proven that he had plenty of skills. He could have been a lawyer. He simply did not want to do anything other than be a bartender. Which was totally fine. It wasn't like he was pathetic and miserable and the kind of guy who still lived in a filthy apartment with four roommates, including his ex-girlfriend, who had a better job than he had and who he couldn't stop making out with during drinking games.
It was right that they had broken up. He did not want to get back together with Jess. And seriously, he had so many more important things to think about. The state of the loft was awful right now, and it looked like he was the only one who was going to do anything to fix it.
Nick scratched his stubbly chin, raised his arms, and yawned, considering. Then he had a brilliant idea.
***
Jess got home after a long day at the end of a long week, and she knew that today was the day things had to change.
She looked around the loft, taking in for the first time in days just how filthy the place had gotten. You could hardly see the brown leather of the couch for all of the clothes piled on it. She didn't know whether they were dirty or clean, or even whose they were, except that they weren't hers. There were far too many boxers.
There was really only one way to fix this. Jess knocked on everyone's door and called for a family meeting.
***
"Jess, for the last time, we are not a family." Schmidt paced around the living room, pushing his hands through his hair.
"Come on, you guys you are like my family." said Jess. "You know how much this loft means to me, but this is ridiculous."
"I agree, actually," Nick said.
"Nick, now is not the time," said Jess, exasperated. Then she stopped and looked at him, confused. "Wait, you agree?"
"Yes," said Nick. "I do agree. This has gotten out of hand. I know Schmidt's usually the one who tells us to clean our house but I think we really need to do something. And it just so happens this brilliant brain has come up with the perfect solution."
Winston stroked Furguson and looked up from a pile of laundry on the couch. "You're brilliant?"
"Yes, Winston, I am. Here's my plan," said Nick. "I say we play True American, and the losers divide the household chores. The winner gets to assign them."
"Wait, wait, wait," said Jess. "I have a better idea."
"What's your brilliant idea?" Nick asked. "You really think you have something better than this?"
"I think we've played True American too many times. I think it's stale and old and we need to change things. We need to not have repeat incidents of the previous games of True American." Jess looked around, challenging the others with her wide doe eyes. All of the loft's inhabitants went to a dreamy, far-off place, their eyes glazing over.
Coach was remembering the time when Winston tried to play basketball during True American and forgot the beer bottles were in fact made of glass. They had stepped on glass shards for days afterwords.
Winston was remembering the time when Schmidt thought it would be a good idea to make the ground actual lava by putting maple syrup all over the living room floor. He had had to scrape maple syrup out of Furguson's fur forever, and cats did not like baths, it turned out.
Schmidt was remembering the time when Nick had hugged him a little too tight and called him "Sweet Jess" while they were both on top of the same chair, which was super disturbing. And also a little bit hot, even though Schmidt was totally not into guys. Which was even more disturbing.
And Nick and Jess? They were both remembering the same several incidents, which involved a lot of making out.
"Yeah, okay," said everyone at the same time. "No more True American. So what's the plan?"
"You guys, this is going to be great!" said Jess. "We are such a family, and what better way to show it than by expanding our geographical repertoire? I say we play True Canadian!"
"All right!" said Winston.
"Yeah!" said Schmidt.
Then Coach asked, "What's true Canadian?"
***
Two hours later everyone was perched atop furniture, half the laundry was folded (the rest of it was in the recycling bin for some reason), and Nick was yelling "Robert Ford!"
Winston and Coach replied, "Stephen Harper!"
Everyone shotgunned a beer.
Jess stood on top of the dining room table wearing a crown made of Molson Ice bottles. "Okay, name province or territory," she said.
"Toronto," said Winston.
"That's a city," said Nick, taking a slug of whiskey.
"Ontario," Schmidt called.
Coach came in with, "British Columbia!"
"Okay, Prince Edward Island!" Jess shouted, slurring a little. "I win! I said the smallest province!"
"Wait," said Nick. "No one said anything about size of province."
"That's the rules!" Jess looked at Nick and sighed. "Prince Edward Island is the best province because of Anne of Green Gables. Everyone knows that."
"Jess, that's ridiculous," Nick said.
"Come on, Nick! You're just jealous because you lose. Everyone sensible loves Anne of Green Gables! I grew up wanting to be Anne Shirley, with best bosom friends who were my kindred spirits." She snorted belligerently. "You obviously wouldn't understand."
"You want a bosom friend?" Schmidt interrupted. "Does this mean that you and Cece touch each other's boobs?"
Cece and Jess, who were on top of chairs on opposite sides of the room, both glared at Schmidt, and shouted, "No! Jar, Schmidt! Right now!"
Schmidt sighed and pulled a twenty out of his pocket, handing it to Winston, who was nearest the douchebag jar.
"Look, what does it matter who likes what TV show from Canadiana?" asked Nick.
"It's CANADA," shouted Jess. "And it's not a TV show, Nick. It happens to be a work of classic literature. And you know nothing about that because you're nothing like Gilbert Blythe, and I don't know why I ever dated you to begin with, or why I keep making out with you during True American."
"What!?" screamed everyone else.
"Oh," said Jess, more quietly this time. "My bad. Don't... just pretend I didn't say that. I... I didn't say that."
"You totally said that," said Coach.
"Yeah, you said it," said Cece, glowering at her best friend. "I can't believe you told me you were over him when you are obviously not over him!"
"I am over him, I swear," said Jess.
"And I'm totally over her," said Nick."Totally, totally over her."
"Yes, we are both totally over each other. To prove it, I'm just gonna like kiss Nick right now and show you that it doesn't doesn't mean anything," said Jess.
"Really, you don't have to do that," said Schmidt.
“No,” said Nick, “I think we do. So you guys don’t think this is weird.”
“Too late,” said Winston.
“Way too late,” Cece and Coach agreed in unison.
But Nick and Jess didn’t listen. Their eyes were fixed on each other and it was as though the rest of the world had faded away. They took two steps toward each other simultaneously, carefully navigating over table and bar stools to meet on the kitchen counter. When they kissed, they didn’t even notice that the rest of the room had emptied.
***
The next day dawned sunny and gorgeous, as per usual in LA. Nick tried to throw his arm over his eyes to block out the brightness, but it seemed to be stuck under something.
Something warm and soft.
Something right.
Jess.
“Uuuughhh,” Jess groaned. “Where am I?”
Then she opened her eyes and yelped. “Nick! We’re not supposed to be in bed together!”
“Uh, yeah, about that…” Nick sighed. “Look Jess, I know we said we wouldn’t, but I gotta admit, it’s really nice to wake up next to you.”
“Yeah,” said Jess, fluffing her hair in that adorably self-conscious way that she had. Okay, to be honest, Nick was totally not over her. At all. “We could make an exception.”
“Just this once,” said Nick.
“Or maybe,” said Jess, trailing off as he kissed her neck.
“Maybe we could make a new rule,” suggested Nick.
“What kind of rule?” asked Jess.
“A True Canadian rule?”
Jess’s gorgeous blue eyes lit up. She got it. Nick knew she would. That was the thing about Jess, aside from her being utterly beautiful… She got him.
“What happens up North stays up North?” she asked.
“I feel a polar expedition coming on,” said Nick.
“Oh my God, Nick, you are such a dork!”
“Spoken by the woman in a Staypuft Marshmallow Man shirt,” Nick teased.
“There is no way that should sound hot,” Jess said. “No way.”
“But you love it, don’t you?”
Jess didn’t say anything. Instead, she shut his mouth with a kiss.
***
A few hours later Nick and Jess emerged from their "polar expedition" on the hunt for brunch.
“The loft is still a total mess,” said Jess.
“Yeah,” Nick noted. “Except now Winston’s beer goggles are on the couch contaminating the laundry.”
“Why did Winston think it would be a good idea to make goggles out of actual beer cans?” Jess asked.
“I have no idea. Who understands anything Winston does?”
“Furguson?” Jess asked.
“Touché,” said Nick.
“Well, I guess there’s really only one thing to do now,” Jess said.
Nick met her gaze and nodded. “Listen up, everybody!” he shouted. Then he started knocking on all their doors. “Time to get up! It’s super important! We have to play another round of True Canadian!"